


Caged Bird

by Chaosreigning



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaosreigning/pseuds/Chaosreigning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After seven months, it was easier just to enjoy the man’s company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caged Bird

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heartslogos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartslogos/gifts).



> This was originally written as a gift to the amazing heartslogos over on tumblr. Because she's awesome when she's not breaking my heart.

They’re in an open air market in Barcelona, Spain in the middle of a hot summer’s day when Ra’s winds one arm around Tim’s waist and pulls him back against his chest. Tim just rolls his eyes and allows it. It’s been over half a year his kidnapping; he’s had time to get used to these things – a proprietary hand on the small of his back, fingers brushing overly-long hair out of his face, a body warm against his in bed. Tim had fought it all at first, of course, but it had been made very clear that he wasn’t getting away on his own, and Ra’s was, unfortunately, extremely charming, wonderfully intelligent, and an engaging conversationalist. After seven months, it was easier just to enjoy the man’s company.  
  
“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” Ra’s murmurs into Tim’s ear. His voice, like auditory chocolate, rich and deep, makes a shiver run down the teenager’s spine despite himself. That was another thing that had become distressingly harder to ignore lately – just how damned  _attractive_  the pseudo-immortal was. Tim glances up at Ra’s, an eyebrow raised pointedly. He refuses to show that he’s affected.  
  
“Next thing you know, you’ll be asking me to  _trust you_ ,” he drawls wryly. Ra’s smirks back down at him, just as amused.  
  
“I’ve put far too much effort into successfully caging you to destroy you now, Detective.”  
  
Tim can't argue with that, not with sweat pricking under the thick metal bands circling each of his wrists. For all that they look like decoration – silver and inlayed gold in intricately wrought designs, glittering in the Spanish sunlight, unmarred by even a single visible seam – the electronics inside of them will taze him into unconsciousness for days if he leaves the radius Ra’s has set for him. He knows. He’s tried.  
  
It's a gilded cage, full of light silks, soft linens, gorgeous weapons to practice and train with, rooms full of books. Anything Tim could possibly ask for is his, as long as he isn't asking for his freedom. The decadence doesn't make the cage any less apparent.  
  
His family has to be getting close again by now, though. This apparent pleasure voyage around the Mediterranean on Ra's' yacht had been too sudden for it to be anything but an attempt to evade them without continuing to change bases every few days. Tim hasn't lost hope yet, not when he knows they've almost succeeded a few times before. If nothing else, Bruce won't accept being beaten.  
  
“Close your eyes,” Ra’s tells him again, and Tim wants to hate him a little for the way he sounds like an indulgent – Tim takes a second to pick the right word, unwilling to accede to the first choices ( _husband_ ,  _lover_ ) that come to mind before settling on  _suitor_. Ra’s sounds like an indulgent suitor. Tim gives Ra’s one last, narrow look, then sighs dramatically and faces forward again.  
  
“If you put anything disgusting in my mouth, I’m going to make tonight very unpleasant for you,” Tim warns, finally allowing his eyes to fall closed. His arm comes up to rest against the one around his waist, the confirmation of Ra’s grip reassuring. Tim hates Ra’s for that a little, too. Ra’s quiet chuckle rumbles against his back.  
  
“I would never. How would ever I fall asleep without your cold feet tucked under my legs?” Something rounded with smooth, fibrous skin pressed against Tim’s mouth. “Bite.”  
  
Grasping Ra’s wrist with his free hand to stop it from moving, Tim leans in and obeys. Bright flavor explodes across his senses, sweet and tart and just slightly citrusy. Mango. He hums his approval, swallows and pulls Ra’s wrist in so he can have another taste.  
  
  
  
Across the marketplace, Bruce watches Tim lounge back against the Demon’s Head, looking relaxed and comfortable tangled so intimately in the man’s arms as he's fed. Ra’s leans in closer to say something into Tim’s ear that makes him smile and tilt his chin up to look over his shoulder, eyes fluttering open. It makes something in Bruce’s chest ache to see it: Tim hasn’t looked quite that content in a long time.  
  
And as he lifts his hand to contact the others, Bruce abruptly doesn’t know if he’s going to order an attack…  
  
Or a retreat.

 


End file.
